


Choosing My Confessions

by missingnolovefic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Fake AH Crew, From Sex to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: Karma is the worst. Getting his heart broken and kidnapped on the same day? Jeremy's not having a good time.Hopefully Ryan realizes his mistake before it is too late.





	Choosing My Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for 500+ followers over on my tumblr <3 This is the promised reward fic!
> 
> You've voted collectively for fahc Jeremwood h/c angst, with generally most prompts asking for kidnapping so... here it is.
> 
> "Every whisper of every waking hour  
>  I'm **choosing my confessions**  
>  Trying to keep an eye on you  
>  Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool  
>  Oh no I've said too much  
>  I set it up"  
>  \-- Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

There was something soft about Ryan, Jeremy thought. Something vulnerable that he only caught a glimpse of when Ryan slept.

The Vagabond was never soft. He was a hardened professional, clipped words and judging stares. Mysterious in his silence, a dark, brooding figure; a bad boy straight out of some penny dreadful. That wasn’t what had drawn him in, however. No, it was the delighted laughter following an explosion, the hysterical cackling before the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun. The childish glee at a heist gone right, no matter how stupid the plan. It was this glimpse of something _more_ that got Jeremy to pay more attention. And once he started looking, he couldn’t really stop.

The Vagabond wasn’t nice, no. But Ryan was.

Ryan was funny and kind and indulged Jeremy when he found a stray to pet, patiently waiting for him to be done cooing over the cat or dog, even if it made them late.

It was Ryan he fell in love with.

Jeremy tensed, blinking his eyes open. The warm weight in his arms felt heavy all of a sudden, in a way it hadn’t even when his arm was going numb from the pinched bloodflow. He stared at Ryan’s sleeping form, looking incredibly peaceful and innocent and _soft_ , as the realization sunk in. Black hair curled over his cheek, and Jeremy reached for it out of habit, brushing it back behind his ear, and turned the thought over in his head.

They’d been falling into bed together for several weeks now. It always went the same way: they returned to the penthouse and checked in with Geoff. Sometimes Jeremy waited for Ryan, other times Ryan waited for him. More often lately they came off a job together, Jeremy high on adrenaline and nearly vibrating out of his skin. A hand on his shoulder, a nudge, an offer to drive him home - and Jeremy manfully ignored the teasing he got for painting his Kuruma orange and purple, turning it useless for sneaking about. Jeremy took him up on that offer that first time, and every night since.

 _I’m in love_ , Jeremy thought to himself, watching the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. Figured that he went and fell hard for this dorky idiot, who flubbed if he spoke more than three words, who lobbed grenades with a breathless giggle, who still asked him if he wanted to come in for _coffee,_ who-

Who kissed him, soft and hesitant that first night, just outside his apartment building. Who reluctantly admitted that he preferred to be the little spoon after the first week, who loved to stay in bed and just cuddle. Who trusted Jeremy enough to fall asleep in his arms.

Yeah, Jeremy realized. He was gone for this guy.

The admission left a giddy feeling in his chest, bubbling up with joy, and he snickered, burying his face in Ryan’s neck. Ryan twitched in his arms, and Jeremy stilled, counting the seconds. Ryan’s breathing evened out, and Jeremy couldn’t help the fond smile breaking out across his face. He tightened his grip on Ryan and buried his face in his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

“I love you,” Jeremy whispered into the quiet dawn and muffled his breathless laughter against Ryan’s shoulder. He felt light, as if he had grown wings overnight, floating on clouds. He kissed the warm skin under his lips and murmured full of relief and joy, “I love-”

In his arms, Ryan tensed.

Jeremy broke off, lifting his head. The room was weirdly silent, except for Jeremy’s heart beating loud and fast in his chest. It took a moment for the realization to sink in- Ryan’s breathing had gone quiet.

Jeremy swallowed and turned his head, meeting a single open, blue eye. He cleared his throat.

“Mornin’.”

Ryan didn’t react, face expressionless. Shit. Had he heard…?

“Sleep well?” Jeremy asked, forcing a smile on his face. His heart lodged in his throat. “Wanna make breakfast or grab some donuts on the way in…?”

Ryan remained silent, turning his head and just staring at him with both eyes open now. Jeremy shivered. Why didn’t he react? If he’d been awake he had to have heard… But if he’d just woken why was he acting weird-

Ryan sat up slowly, pushing Jeremy away.

“We should stop.” His voice sounded dark, rough with sleep. A cold shiver ran down Jeremy’s spine.

“Alright, no donuts,” Jeremy agreed lightly, shaking out his numb arm. He glanced back at Ryan watching him with that inscrutable expression. “You’re right, I need to go back to my workout diet.”

He jokingly slapped his stomach, and watched as Ryan’s brows furrowed.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ryan said and he sounded… harsh. Cold.

Jeremy bit his lip and rolled off the bed, turning his back to Ryan, hoping- Well, fuck if he knew. Hoping this was all a joke, that he was jumping to conclusions. Hoping if he didn’t see that- that expressionless face, that blank mask, that this wasn’t going where he thought it was.

“Are you breaking up with me because I got fat?” Jeremy joked as he slipped into his pants. His hands were shaking, fingers fumbling uselessly with the button. “Because I gotta say, buddy, low blow.”

“No.” Ryan’s voice was a low growl, and hope sparked in Jeremy’s chest. “There’s no breaking up. We’re not _dating_.”

Jeremy froze.

Behind him he could hear the rustle of sheet, followed by heavy footfalls as Ryan stood up. He glanced over his shoulder, catching Ryan’s icy gaze.

“Breaking up implies that we’re in a relationship,” Ryan continues coldly. “Which implies that this-” He indicated Jeremy, the bed and himself with a wave. “-means something. It doesn’t.”

“Well, sure, we never really put a name to what we’re doing here, but-” Jeremy licked his lips, mouth feeling dry. Hard to think with blood rushing through his ears, making everything sound distant and muffled. He picked up his yellow shirt and threw it on, before slipping into his purple jacket. He buttoned it close methodically, slowly. Not looking back at Ryan.

“It never meant anything,” Ryan was saying, and the harsh tone made Jeremy flinch.

“It doesn’t have to. I don’t know why I sai-” Jeremy’s voice cracked. He stopped and took a deep, shaky breath. His hands dropped as he finished the last button. “You don’t even have to say it back. We can just… keep going. Battle Buddies, am I right?”

“This was a mistake,” Ryan retorted, his voice unmovable.

“Is that what you think?” Jeremy blurted out, whirling around to face him. He searched Ryan’s face, but it was a hard, emotionless mask.

“Caring is a weakness I can’t afford.” His lips were curled and he eyed Jeremy up and down like he was something disgusting. “Trust me, you’re better off without me.”

“So, what, that’s it?” Jeremy made a frustrated noise, throwing up his hand. His breathing was coming in short bursts, heart hammering in his ribcage. “You get scared and then we’re done?”

His chest felt tight, but now anger joined it, a low burning in his gut. Ryan very deliberately did not answer. And that, Jeremy supposed, was an answer in and of itself.

“This was fun, but you should go.”

“Just like that, huh?” Jeremy grit out between clenched teeth. He blinked rapidly, trying to force back the tears threatening at the corner of his eyes. Ryan stayed silent, crossing his arms. Jeremy swallowed. “Alright. Well, fuck you, too.”

He forced himself to smile up at Ryan, more a baring of teeth than anything. Ryan’s face was a blur as tears sprung up, and Jeremy hurried out the door and down the hall before Ryan could see.

The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Ryan now, Jesus.

 

* * *

Oh no, I've said too much.

* * *

 

Ryan stared down at the blueprints, lost in thought.

No matter how much he tried to distract himself, his mind was stuck on this morning. On the things said and words left unspoken. It was for the best, Ryan knew, rubbing at his burning chest. It was for the best, but maybe, if he’d been a little gentler… made Jeremy _see_ why they couldn’t- If he’d let him know how he felt about _Jeremy_ , maybe then...

For a moment he closed his eyes and let himself imagine.

The feeling of warm breath on his neck, dry lips caressing his skin. Arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. A breathless whisper into the night. _I love you_. Ryan would open his eyes and turn his head, catch the sweet smile on his lips. Kiss him, maybe. Mumbling those same words in the space between their mouths, breaths mingling.

 _A dream._ Ryan shook his head. _A fantasy, doomed to fail._

He could imagine it all too easily. A shoot-out with the cops, maybe. Or another turf war with one of their rival gangs. It only took a stray bullet for Jeremy to bleed out in his arms.

Or a failed heist, a parachute that won’t open, a car bomb in the getaway vehicle. Jeremy’s scared voice over the comms, calling his name, before-

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Not a dream, but a disaster.

 _Easier to lose him now, when it hurts less_ , he thought bleakly. At least he would still see Jeremy at work, and once he got over it- over _Ryan_ \- maybe, he could find happiness elsewhere, with someone less broken. And Ryan would watch, from a safe distance and not risk his heart breaking every day, again and again-

“Ryan?” Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts. Ryan could see her head poking through the door from the corner of his eyes, a frown on her face. “Have you seen Jeremy?”

 _Just this morning_ , he thought, recalling strong arms around him. On its heels followed the image of Jeremy’s crumbling expression, as Ryan hurled every hurtful thing he could think of at him. The way the light stuttered and died in his soulful brown eyes. _Like kicking a puppy_.

“Not since yesterday,” Ryan lied and told himself the twinge that he felt at that was because he hated lying to Jack. He lifted his head to look at her. “Why?”

“He hasn’t shown up all day,” Jack said, brows furrowing worriedly. “This isn’t like him.”

Ryan shrugged, trying for casual. How was he supposed to tell his co-worker that he knew why Jeremy was avoiding the penthouse today? Tell her that he was very likely the reason why? That he was responsible for stomping all over Jeremy’s feelings and then kicking him out of his bed, just because he couldn’t handle a conversation like an adult?

They hadn’t even told the crew that they were- were-

“Maybe he’s taking a mental health day?” he suggested hastily.

“He hasn’t called in sick, though,” Jack muttered, frowning. He was glad for the mask as Jack studied him intently. “You’re sure you haven’t heard from him?”

Ryan shook his head mutely.

“Alright,” Jack said slowly, sounding unconvinced. “If you see him, let him know I’ve been looking for him?”

“Sure,” Ryan agreed lightly. Jack watched him for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back out of the room. Ryan returned his focus back to the blueprints, but the lines and words were swimming together in front of his eyes.

There was nothing to tell the crew because they _weren’t_ in a relationship. They were... just fucking, and not that even, not anymore. It was none of their business as long, as it didn’t interfere with the crew-

Ryan grit his teeth. _He_ wasn’t letting this affect crew business. Jeremy would have to learn to suck it up and move on.

Abruptly Ryan stood up, nearly toppling the low couch table as his knees bumped into it. He needed a coke and some proper distraction. He’d go check in with Geoff, see if anyone needed a bullet between the eyes. Or maybe one of their tentative allies needed a reminder why they were working with them.

But when he walked into Geoff’s office, the man was on the phone, holding up a hand. Ryan shrugged and opened his diet coke, leaning in the doorframe to watch. Geoff seemed… agitated. He was running his hand through his hair and tugging on the strands in frustration, his words were sharp and demanding. A pause as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s from him?” Geoff demanded loudly, slamming his hand on the desk. Ryan blinked slowly and took a sip from his can. “Sent it in to Steffie, I want a full DNA report- and let Trevor know I’m expecting him up here ASAP. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Geoff hung up and stared at his phone for a long second, then huffed and looked up.

“Good, you’re here.” Ryan raised a brow at him, and Geoff scowled. “Unless you bring me more bad news?”

Ryan shook his head and went to take another sip from his can.

“Alright, good. Go grab Jack, I need everyone in the meeting room in five.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryan nodded, but paused in the door. Geoff looked pale. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Geoff’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he looked up at Ryan with a serious look in his eyes. “Hellforge is holding one of ours ransom.”

“Hellforge?” Ryan straightened. The gang was relatively new to Los Santos, making a nuisance out of themselves at most. Trying to look for a foothold into the city, but most of their territories laid in East San Andreas. If they got their hands on one of the Fakes’ allies-

“Ryan.” Geoff’s voice cut through his thoughts. The sharp tone caught his attention. “They have Jeremy.”

 

* * *

I haven't said enough.

* * *

 

“Oh, great,” Jeremy grunted as he blinked awake for the second time today. His head pounded, his eyes felt gritty and dry with sleep, and when he tried to lift a hand to rub at them, it turned out the low ache between his shoulders was due to his arms being tied together behind his back. He strained against the rope, but there was no give. “Just great.”

The day was just getting better and better. If it even still was the same day.

He’d been hoping to throw himself into crew work, keep his mind off this morning. His eyes flit around the dark room, trying to figure out what he had to work with here. A small window to his left let in natural light, so it must be day. The wooden walls gave him the impression of a shed, but with a glance up at the sloped roof he amended to shed or attic. He was facing the wall, maybe seven, eight feet from him. Sitting on the floor and tied to what felt like some sort of pole, maybe a support beam, there wasn’t much that he could do.

Of course his thoughts strayed back to Ryan and their… fight. Break-up, whatever. He remembered that morning, that giddy feeling as if he could fight the entire world. Jeremy closed his eyes, trying to recapture the elation he felt when he admitted his feelings to himself. What would have happened if he hadn’t opened his big mouth? If he hadn’t slipped up? Well, he certainly wouldn’t be here, for one. No one was stupid enough to try to grab two of the Fakes, especially not the Vagabond. They would have gotten breakfast together and then gone to work. See if Geoff had a job for the two of them, as was becoming habit.

Not dating indeed. Ryan was a damn fool if he didn’t see that was exactly where they were going.

He felt a pang in his chest. Maybe he was the fool for expecting skittish, emotionally stunted Ryan to be overjoyed when confronted with _feelings_.

Jeremy scowled. It didn’t matter now. Ryan had made his opinion known loud and clear, and there was nothing Jeremy could do to change it. The harder he pushed, the further Ryan would retreat - retreat behind work, behind that stupid skull mask, and eventually put more distance between them. Shit, what if he told the others? Did they even know Jeremy was missing? Would they assume _he_ was trying to get away from the situation, to- to fucking brood or sulk or whatever? Jeremy struggled against the ropes for a futile moment, but he was left alone with his thoughts and nothing better to do.

Nothing better to do than to wallow in self-pity, and God did he wish for some sort of distraction.

Behind him a door banged open, and Jeremy straightened. A hand grabbed him by the hair, fingers twisting painfully in the strands and slamming his head against the wooden beam. Tears sprung up in his eyes, and Jeremy blinked as the world swam back into focus. Two figures stood in front of him, a third behind him barely visible in his peripheral. Guards for the interrogator, probably.

 _Be careful what you wish for,_ he thought ruefully, before turning to face the leader.

“Mr. Tim, I presume,” the man said, looking smarmy in his suit. Too tight in the shoulders, too big in the waist, Jeremy thought critically. Hanging around Geoff had taught him some taste, even if his boss despaired at his colour choices. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same, considering the circumstances,” Jeremy drawled, and the hand in his hair tightened. The suit ignored him.

“Now, I have a couple questions for you. If you cooperate, I’ll see to it that your accommodations are adjusted accordingly. If not-” He waved at the guard behind Jeremy, who ripped his hand back. His head banged against the beam, and the room blurred out of focus. A concussion, probably, Jeremy thought. How wonderful. It took him a moment of gritting his teeth through the stinging pain to realize that wasn’t the only thing that happened.

The suit held out a palm, and the guard opened his fist over it, a bundle of orange-dyed strands drifting into the suit’s hand.

“Well. I’m sure you can imagine,” the suit concluded, studying the hair intently.

“Buddy, I’ve had worse than _you_ can imagine,” Jeremy scoffed, rolling his shoulders. The rope cut into his wrists. “I’ve _done_ worse to others. You think this is my first rodeo?”

“May I assume that you decline cooperation, then?” The suits tsked. “Shame.”

Jeremy knew he should shut up. That he shouldn’t taunt his captors, shouldn’t escalate the interrogation, wait for the crew-

“What is this, amateur hour?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Starting out weak, are we? Still learning the ropes?”

The suit’s eyes narrowed, and the guy behind him cracked his knuckles.

“Very well. We’ll see how you feel about my offer after you had some time to think about it.” He gave Jeremy a thin smile. “But first… something to think about.”

The guy behind him stepped forward, and Jeremy resolutely didn’t close his eyes, didn’t flinch after the first punch, nor the second.

Better to see it coming.

 

* * *

I think I thought I saw you try.

* * *

 

There was a vicious sense of satisfaction in seeing a person’s eyes widen when they saw the skull mask. Ryan didn’t even blink before putting a bullet between them, already pushing forward. Michael followed on his heels, the click of the shotgun reloading loud even in the chaos. They blasted through the gang members lounging around a table, utterly unprepared for the assault. A crash as Jack ran the tank off the street and straight into the garage.

It took them three days.

Three days to track the delivery of the ransom message. Three days of uncertainty, of waiting on the lab results, of the knowledge deep down that those orange hairs had to belong to Jeremy. Three days in which Ryan went looking for him all over the city, before finally finding his phone in a back alley near Ryan’s apartment. Three days of guilt because this was all Ryan’s fault in the end, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t kicked Jeremy out, if they’d driven to work together as usual-

Three days caught in a sense of pervading guilt. Every injury, every moment of pain Jeremy was suffering, every second of torture… Ryan was to blame for each and every one.

Michael kicked in a door, and Ryan watched his back as he cleared it with trained efficiency. Geoff passed him and took position at the next door, giving Ryan a nod. Without another word, Ryan rammed the door open, one of the hinges coming loose and causing the door to swing wildly. A woman poked her head above an overturned kitchen table, raising her pistol. One shot to the shoulder and her shot went wide. A second shot to the head, and the woman crumbled to the floor.

Ryan’s mag clicked empty, and he cursed under his breath.

“Basement’s clear,” Matt’s voice announced in his ear. “They must keep him upstairs.”

Three days to realize that if he lost Jeremy, it would break him. It didn’t matter whether they were together or not, Ryan was already _attached_. They broke up for _nothing_ , he hurt Jeremy for _nothing_ because…. because he still cared, too much, and he couldn’t lose Jeremy. He _couldn’t_.

He needed to tell Jeremy how he felt first.

The stairs were just next to the kitchen, and Ryan took an aborted step before a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He glanced back at Geoff and raised an eyebrow, even if it was hard to see under the mask.

“Reload first,” Geoff advised him, giving him a firm look.

Ryan ground his teeth, chagrined, but nodded an affirmative.

The landing was empty, and as the crew spread out around the upper floor, Ryan ran into a set of foldable stairs leading into the attic. Cocking his head, he caught Jack’s eyes and indicated up. She glanced from the stairs to him and nodded, hefting her assault rifle higher. With a grim nod, Ryan cautiously took one stair at a time.

The attic was rather small. A low, sloped roof, two support beams, maybe twenty feet wide-

A thud followed by a muffled noise.

Ryan spun around, gun raised. A burly man was half hidden behind one of the wooden supports, leg pulled back as if in the middle of kicking something- or someone. Ryan didn’t waste any time, taking aim and pulling the trigger three times rapidly. The first hit the guy in the shoulder, the second in the chest. The third went wide as the man curled in on himself. Ryan stepped up and put a bullet in his head, just to be safe.

A gasp drew his attention, eyes flickering to his right.

“Ry-Ryan?”

The air escaped his lungs in a rush at the familiar voice.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy coughed, curling in on himself. Ryan gave him a quick once-over. He was tied to the support beam, and his nose looked swollen. There was dried blood on his face, and bruises around his eyes, on his cheeks. His wrists were tied behind the pole, and Ryan hurriedly dropped down, pulling out a knife to cut him free. The skin was rubbed raw where the rope was drawn too tightly, and Ryan bit down a wince of sympathy.

“Talk to me, Jeremy,” he demanded in a low voice, carefully loosening the rope around his hands. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just some bruised ribs, I think,” Jeremy replied lightly, before coughing again. Ryan felt a twinge in his chest as he sat back, drawing Jeremy’s hands up in front. Jeremy rolled his shoulders and grimaced. “And generally sore. Didn’t get many bathroom breaks.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. His throat felt thick, dry and swollen. So instead he turned his head away, finger slipping under the mask to press the talk button on the comm.

“I found him. He’s upstairs.”

“Roger that,” Geoff responded immediately. “Jack, head up with the first aid kit. The rest of us will clear out the house, make sure we catch every last one of them. Gavin, pull up the ambulance.”

“On it,” Gavin said.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Jack promised, but Ryan was already tuning them out again.

Jeremy raised a hand to pat down his hair, and Ryan’s gaze followed the motion. He took in the bald spot in the middle, uneven and evidently where they ripped out bundles of it. Ryan pressed his lips together until his jaw started hurting.

“That bad, huh?” Jeremy joked weakly. His hand settled over his hair, as if trying to hide it. “Guess I should shave it all off, wait for it to regrow. Hope I can pull off bald.”

“You can pull off anything,” Ryan hurried to reassure him, and he didn’t miss the flicker of surprise in Jeremy’s eyes as he glanced at him furtively. A pang hit his chest, and he smiled ruefully. “You’re fucking handsome, Jeremy, no matter what weird colour you dyed your hair every other week. I’m sure bald will look good on you, too.” A pause, and then he added slyly, “Besides, you’ve got that stupid cowboy hat. Not like anyone can see your hair, is it?”

“Guess so,” Jeremy agreed weakly, cheeks faintly flushed. Ryan cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortably aware that he was still holding one of Jeremy’s hands.

Too aware of the last words they exchanged before… all of this.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and then bit his lip. Jeremy looked up at him, curious and a little confused. “I- I was an idiot. Before. When we- when you-”

_I nearly lost you._

The words got stuck in his throat, but Jeremy seemed to catch onto what he was saying.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to-”

“No, I do. I really think I do.” Ryan carefully reached up to cup Jeremy’s face, tilting it up towards him. “Jeremy. I- I’m a fool. I thought if I didn’t- didn’t _say_ anything or, or, _confirm_ it, then it wouldn’t hurt as much. But it does and- I, I can’t-”

_I can’t lose you._

“Ryan,” Jeremy whispered, and Ryan leaned in to kiss him, stopping abruptly at the sight of blood all over Jeremy’s face. Instead, he turned the movement up, to brush a kiss to his temple-

Only for his lips to meet leather.

Jeremy snorted.

“You’re wearing the mask, asshole.”

Ryan blinked and then groaned. “I’m a moron.”

“We’ve covered that, yes,” Jeremy agreed, lips quirking upward. Then he grimaced in pain. Ryan’s smile faltered, and he traced carefully along the edges of the bruising.

“This is my fault,” he said, thumb coming to rest at the corner of Jeremy’s mouth. His eyes flickered up to Jeremy’s, before avoiding his gaze. “If I hadn’t kicked you out because I was being stupid-”

“-they would have grabbed me some other time,” Jeremy finished for him. He dropped the hand from his hair and poked Ryan’s shoulder. “Stop it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Ryan’s chest tightened, and he looked up to meet Jeremy’s brown eyes.

“But I do,” he objected quietly. His hand dropped away from Jeremy’s face to dangle awkwardly at his side. “I hurt you. I hurt you because I was scared of getting hurt, and I did it on purpose. I was an ass towards you, and if I could make it up to you, even just a little-”

“What’s done is done,” Jeremy said, but his voice wavered and he looked away. “I get it. You’re not ready for a relationship or whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” Ryan retorted urgently, desperately. “It does because I fucking love you, too, and I should just have said it instead of ruining everything-”

“Wait,” Jeremy interrupted him. Ryan’s mouth snapped shut, and he glanced at Jeremy, who looked dazed. “What.”

“I’m an idiot,” Ryan repeated, deflating.

“Not that,” Jeremy said, starting to sound a little hysterical. “The, the other thing.”

“I should have said something?”

“No, between that, you asshole.” Jeremy was glaring at him now, slapping lightly at his shoulder. Ryan mustered a smile, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

“I lo-”

“Hey guys,” Jack called out, interrupting their little moment. “Just me, don’t shoot! Bringing the medkit up now.”

Ryan glanced up to see the red-head poke her head through the attic door. Panic seized him, like it had that morning, like this was vital, important. That this was it, now or never, and he was about to ruin it _again-_

“I love you,” he blurted out, turning to look back at Jeremy. Jack paused, one knee on the floor as she climbed up.

“I’m flattered and all,” she drawled, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “But I’m afraid I’ll just break your heart.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jeremy’s eyes were glittering mischievously. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, visibly holding back his chuckles. “I think you two would make a cute pair.”

“Thank you, Lil J,” Jack accepted gracefully as she set the first aid kit down next to Ryan. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then. Ryan, make sure he’s all wrapped up and decent so we can leave in five.”

“I’m never decent!” Jeremy called out after her, while Ryan pulled off his mask and hid his face in his hands.

“Try for presentable!” Jack called back, whistling as she climbed back down the stairs.

“I take it back,” Ryan muttered, his cheeks feeling incredibly hot. “I hate you.”

“Aww, buddy,” Jeremy cooed, but there was laughter in his voice. “Love you, too.”

Something loosened in Ryan’s chest, and he dropped his hands to smile fondly down at Jeremy.

“I know.” He grabbed an antiseptic wipe from the kit, cleaning up Jeremy’s nose and mouth. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned in and pecked his lips. Jeremy gave him a surprised look, and Ryan leaned back and cleared his throat. “But seriously. I understand if you’re not interested in picking this back up-”

“I am,” Jeremy assured him hastily. “Trust me, I am.”

“Okay.” Ryan gave him a small smile, thumb brushing over Jeremy’s lips. “Okay, good.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed my silly little attempt at angst, please let me know <3 Feedback is always welcome!
> 
> [main tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/) | [fahc sideblog](http://funfahcts.tumblr.com/)


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